Can say I finished a marathon, but can't say I ran one

So today was what Joe and I have been building up to: the Tokyo Marathon.

To recap how I've come into this race, runner's knee knocked me out of my running schedule around Christmas. At that point, I decided to take off from running to recover and ordered a stationary bike, just in case taking off didn't do it. A day or so before the bike arrived, I gave running a go, and things still weren't better.

So that forced me to choose between the lesser of two evils. The longer I stayed on the bike, the more likely my knee would be better, but the worse prepared I'd be for actually running in the marathon. On the other hand, if I tried to run before and screwed up my knee, that could have put me out of the marathon completely. So I ultimately decided that I would just stay on the bike until the marathon, while doing exercises and stretches the help with the runner's knee.

That also changed my whole perspective on the marathon. While training through December, I'd been watching my pace go down and down. Things were progressing so smoothly, I was getting hopeful for a 3:30:00 time or so. That inclination went out the window with my injury.

The plan became survival. I would just go out at a nice and easy pace and focus on getting through the race, rather than worrying about my time. Joe's plan was to run with me for the first half, chatting while running, but then pick it up on the second half. I figured I'd try to pick it up a bit for the last 10km if I was feeling good, but I didn't want to push my luck.

And that brings us right up to the marathon.

With that plan in mind, we got down to business the day before. Our immediate prep for the marathon began last night with lots of carbs at dinner: pasta and bread, pretty much. Then this morning we got up at 5 a.m., took down carbs, bananas, caffeine, etc., did some stretching, and then went off to meet up with the Namban at a Starbucks in Shinjuku. We took down some more caffeine there and went off to drop off our bags. We were a little late, so we didn't get that much stretching in before it was time to hand in our bags.

Namban Rengo before the 2011 Tokyo Marathon

On the way over to drop off our bags, we realized that we were in different starting blocks; me in B and him way back in E. We quickly came up with a plan that I'd hang on the left and he'd catch up, given that he was in better condition to move at a quicker pace.

It was a good thing we had come up with that plan when we did, because Joe and I lost track of each other when dropping off our bags at the different bag trucks we were assigned to. I wouldn't see him again until kilometer 15.

I headed out to the blocks with Jay, a fellow Nambanner with whom I happened to share a starting block. Out in the blocks I chatted with him and another runner (whose name is now escaping me) while waiting for the race to start. I squeezed in a few stretches while packed in among the other runners.

Among others, Tokyo's mayor got to the podium and yapped on for a while, while we stood chilling (in the literal sense) in the starting blocks. If there's one thing I can't stand about races generally, it's that; they get you to the starting line and then make you stand there forever.

Well, even in Japan, speeches end, and at 9:10 a.m. we were off. It took about two minutes for me to just make it to the starting line, and I dutifully made my way to the left side and was on the lookout for Joe.

Things basically went swimmingly for me on this stretch. I wasn't feeling anything with my knee. I was going at an easy pace and could easily chat. Eventually I started noticing a little something in my knee; it was there, but it came and went. It didn't hurt at all, but it was a bad sign. Nevertheless, it didn't seem to be affecting me, so I pressed on.

Eventually I started getting thirsty and needed to take a bathroom break, but I decided not to because I thought Joe would pass me while I was stopped. After not finding him for a while, I began to think that he must have passed me already.

Just when I started thinking that, we got to a point in the course where you ran down and then ran back along the same street. I kept an eye out for Joe on the left as we ran down the right, and sure enough he wasn't there. Knowing now that he was behind me, I kept an eye out for him after reaching the turn-around point, and I found him around the 15 kilometer marker (I was on the other side of the road though, maybe near 16). I yelled out, "Joe! Yo, Joe!" but got no reaction. He later said that he had been listening to Minor Threat so couldn't hear anything.

Having a bead on him, I slowed down to get a drink, while keeping an eye out for him coming up from behind. When I finally found him he was on the right side while I was in the middle. I needed to pick up the pace to scoot over to him, and that was when I first felt my muscles protesting; I didn't get a cramp then, but it felt like I was about to.

So we finally managed to find each other at around kilometer 17. Joe said that he hadn't caught up with me because, in addition to being back in E, he had also needed to take a bathroom break.

In any case, with our plan back on track, we began a leisurely run at a pace where we could easily chat with each other. While I was taking it safe and just concentrating on maintaining form while running in a straight line, Joe was running in a wave to stop off and give spectators high fives. He ultimately came to regret that a bit, but I'm sure you'll hear about that in Joe's post.

Soon we were nearing the halfway point, and we decided that we would stop near the half and get some food and drink. The tables thus far hadn't been giving out food (only drinks), so I broke out that bar Joe had hooked me up with (stuffed in my sock, the metallic wrapper actually scraped my foot, although I didn't even notice during the race). Let me just say that it tasted like a little piece of heaven in my mouth. I think the thing was just really delish to begin with, but add that to the fact that I had been running for some two hours at that point and hadn't eaten since like 5 a.m., and it was just so good. On top of that, given that I was running such a slow pace, stomach cramps from drinking too much weren't a worry at all, so I had my fill of water too.

We crossed the half marathon point at around 2:20:00, which has us around a very leisurely 10:40 mile pace. Things were going pretty well up to somewhere before the 25km point, but the knee was getting more noticeable. As stopping and starting make it worse, grabbing drinks and food, bathroom breaks, etc., were not doing me well.

The pit stops I could skip, but the cramps were another matter. When getting towards 25km, I started getting some major cramping, primarily on the inside of my thighs and my calves, of the kind that's so bad that it throws you out of stride. That, of course, was not helping my knee. I tried to hold it off, but it kept getting worse and worse. At the same time, all the starting and stopping I'd been doing—for food, bathroom breaks, stretching, etc.—had been aggravating the knee.

This was exactly what I had been worried about from being on the bike; muscles that were used more in running than on the bike would just go to crap during the race. Sure enough, that's what happened. Add to that only limited stretching immediately before the run, and I was just asking for trouble.

And I got it in spades. The cramps were forcing me into a damned-if-I-do-and-damned-if-I-don't situation. I could stop and stretch to fend off the cramps, which was good for those cramping muscles but bad for my knee, or I could try to run it off, which was good for my knee (no stopping and starting) but wasn't solving the cramp problem.

The cramps ultimately won the day, forcing me to stop a bunch of times, and my knee paid the price.

All the while, Joe, between getting high fives from the spectators, did his best to urge me on. He told me that I had to finish to prove my naysayer wife wrong (she didn't think I should run it because my training had veered so far off course), that I drug him into this and had to see it through with him, that it was all mental (trust me; it wasn't), etc. I told him that I was definitely going to finish at this point, but that it was just a question of how much I would walk.

It got to the point that I was even having trouble keeping up with him. I was behind by a few meters when I said, "I'm gonna need to walk it a bit." You know that look in war movies when one guy looks back to see that his platoon buddy just got took a hit and isn't gonna make it, but the guy still standing has to go on? That's the look he gave me when I said that. I gave him a "Save yourself!" nod, and off he went. I wouldn't see him again until after the race. This was somewhere before 25km.

On my own again, I alternated between walking and running over the next few kilometers. Ultimately, I walked off to a first aid station, and stopped there to stretch, secretly hoping they'd pull out some magic cure for me. Unfortunately, the guy who came up to me when I crouched down to stretch just told me to take my time and stretch. No miracle cure on tap, apparently.

I managed to stretch out the cramps, but when I went to try running again, my knee wasn't cooperating at all. Apparent that short walks weren't taking care of things, I decided that I'd walk 5km before trying again. This was at around 27km. If, at 32km, I couldn't run, I'd just walk it all the way in. If I could, I'd make the most of the last 10km.

Unfortunately, at 32km, I came to the painful realization that there would be no more running with my knee as it was. I readied myself to walk the remaining 10km.

Feeling kind of salty that I couldn't run, I decided I'd at least walk as fast as I could. I'm a pretty fast walker normally, so when trying I seem to go at a pretty decent clip. That put me in the position of passing numerous walkers and, strangely, even some runners while I was walking. This would happen more and more frequently as I got closer to the end.

The one good thing about the walking was that I could totally ignore cramps. Sure, some were coming in my legs, but the tried and true "Walk it off!" strategy paid great dividends when all I could do was walk. Cramps would come and go, but they weren't enough to slow down my walking pace, and sure enough I was able to walk them off.

Given how long it takes to walk 10km, I needed to figure out some way to pass the time. I decided I'd give zen running a go. The idea struck me when I had pulled my hat over my face to block the sun; all I could see was the concrete and the shadow and sometimes feet of the person in front of me. It was kind of meditational, so I went with it; I tried to become hyperaware of my surrounding and to ignore what I was doing. It may sound ridiculous, but this mental state made several kilometers pass much more quickly than they otherwise would have. The effort broke when the sun was coming at me in a different direction and I had to turn my hat that way to block it, but it was nice while it lasted.

As I was getting closer to the finish line, some guy was holding up a sign that said, in Japanese, "Why did you sign up for the marathon?", which read to me as, "You guys are so damn slow, what the heck were you thinking!" The guy holding the sign was in fact yelling at people to run instead of walk. I kind of felt like screaming at him that I wish I could, but his tough-love attempt to motivate people wasn't quite enough to get me to break my stride.

I finally reached the finish line at 6:05:51.

Little did I know, but my wife had taken the kids out to somewhere along the route to try to find Joe and I. She failed to do so, but the kids had fun (it's kind of like a parade, with so many people dressed up in costumes). In addition, she had been tracking Joe's time and my time online. Here's what she saw for me:

Point	Split (Net Time)	Lap	Time
5km	00:35:02 (0:32:52)	0:32:52	9:45:02
10km	01:06:54 (1:04:44)	0:31:52	10:16:54
15km	01:38:42 (1:36:32)	0:31:48	10:48:42
20km	02:13:09 (2:10:59)	0:34:27	11:23:09
25km	03:07:16 (3:05:06)	0:54:07	12:17:16
30km	04:08:37 (4:06:27)	1:01:21	13:18:37
35km	04:58:32 (4:56:22)	0:49:55	14:08:32
40km	05:45:55 (5:43:45)	0:47:23	14:55:55
Finish	06:05:51 (6:03:41)	0:19:56	15:15:51

And here's what she saw for Joe:

Point	Split (Net Time)	Lap	Time
5km	00:41:06 (0:34:08)	0:34:08	9:51:06
10km	01:11:33 (1:04:35)	0:30:27	10:21:33
15km	01:41:38 (1:34:40)	0:30:05	10:51:38
20km	02:13:09 (2:06:11)	0:31:31	11:23:09
25km	03:01:05 (2:54:07)	0:47:56	12:11:05
30km	03:37:13 (3:30:15)	0:36:08	12:47:13
35km	04:15:03 (4:08:05)	0:37:50	13:25:03
40km	04:56:29 (4:49:31)	0:41:26	14:06:29
Finish	05:12:54 (5:05:56)	0:16:25	14:22:54

Putting our splits side by side, you can see the story play out.

Point	Joe	Vincent
5km	0:41:06	0:35:02
10km	1:11:33	1:06:54
15km	1:41:38	1:38:42
20km	2:13:09	2:13:09
25km	3:01:05	3:07:16
30km	3:37:13	4:08:37
35km	4:15:03	4:58:32
40km	4:56:29	5:45:55
Finish	5:12:54	6:05:51

You see me ahead of Joe through 15km. My wife, seeing this, was wondering what the hell was going on, given that Joe had gotten through his training program while I was on a bike. Then she saw us together at 20km, but by 25km I had fallen behind. By 30km, I was way behind, and stayed that way until finishing up 53 minutes behind Joe.

But finishing felt good. Not so much in the "Yay! I'm a champion!" sense, but more in that I could stop power walking; it felt real good to walk slow. I hobbled over to the side and began stretching.

While there, some reporter came up to me and asked if she could send me an email interview about the race. I figured she must want all kinds of perspectives if she's asking someone like me, but what the heck; I gave her my email and her photographer took some pics of me (some decidedly goofy; he wanted a "determined" pose and a "running" pose, neither of which I was particularly up for at that moment). Another nearby reporter, after seeing my brand-spanking new Namban shirt (thanks, Chiba-san!), dropped by to mention that she had interviewed the Namban just a day or two before.

Media attention aside, after stretching enough so that I could sort of walk, I hobbled my way through the building housing all the marathon stuff. Knowing that I needed to go into the office to work, I hobbled through there as quickly as I could, but it still took me like an hour just to get to the train station; it was just crammed full of people.

I met Joe on the way to the train station down by the waterfront. My wife called to congratulate me on finishing; I could hear the once-naysayer beaming at me through the phone. I hobbled over to the train, went home, shoveled a plate full of pasta into my mouth, took a quick shower, and was off to the office. Did my work, came home, iced, stretched, got in the tub, etc. Finally, I went to bed and slept like a brick.

And thus I completed my first marathon... although it's not fair to say that I ran a marathon. So, unlike Joe, I can't yet lay claim to the namesake title of this blog—vegan marathon runner—but, like Joe, I can say one thing for certain; this will not be my last marathon, and the smart money's going on me earning that title... sooner or later.